


Chasing the Bird

by KimChi



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adorable Derek, Alternate Universe - College/University, Because I can't control my mouth, Birds, Explicit Language, Fluff, Misunderstandings, Pre-Relationship, This just happened to me, so cute I can't handle it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 03:53:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4164705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimChi/pseuds/KimChi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I need you to hold the door while I chase the bird."</p>
<p>"Uhm . . ." Stiles didn't really know what to say to that. Was this some sort of euphemism for sex? That definitely sounded like a euphemism for sex. Or drugs. Neither of which Stiles really wanted to be a part of, at least not in the entrance to the library during finals week. It would be really hard to explain to his dad that he got kicked out of college for "holding the door" for some strange hot guy "chasing the bird" in front of the school library.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chasing the Bird

**Author's Note:**

> This literally just happened to me and it was so adorable I can't handle it. So I wrote this instead of the four papers I have due in two days. (Summer semester? Anyone? No? Just the super nerds, then.)

Stiles groaned and dropped his head onto the desk with a thud, only to wince at the chorus of furious  _SSSSHHHHH!_ s that rose up around him. He had been in the library for the better part of five hours, which he had honestly not even considered as a possibility until now. And he still wasn't done. Finals were going to kill him. He was going to die a slow, agonizing death at the hands of pieces of paper, which, what the fuck, they don't even have hands.  _  
_

He sat up and made a face at the noise his spine made at being upright instead of slouched over a desk, and decided it was time for a break. Like, three hours ago. 

He gathered his wallet, phone, and the small paperback book he had in his bag (because fuck everyone else, it was his favorite book growing up, who cares if there's a mermaid on the cover) and mimed "watch my stuff" to the guy sitting next to him. He didn't look up from his book, but his dark head nodded and Stiles figured he'd probably at least take notice if someone other than him came over and started stealing his textbooks or something. 

He made his way down to the first level, and then outside to where they kept the vending machines and stoners. He bought a packet of m&ms and one of those shitty little paper cups of coffee and sat on the ground a few feet away from the stoners before leaning back and closing his eyes.

Approximately two seconds later someone kicked the bottom of his shoe, but apparently it had been longer than that because the stoners were gone and his coffee was no longer steaming and there was an insanely scary guy standing over him. 

"I didn't do it," was his automatic response. Though this time it was actually the truth. Probably. He felt like he would have remembered someone who looked like he could rip Stiles' arm off and beat him to death with it with very little trouble. 

Mr. Angry made a weird face for a fraction of a second, but then his eyebrows fell back into what was apparently their resting place and he leaned in farther. 

"I need your help," he said slowly, as if he maybe thought Stiles was kind of stupid, which okay was probably fair at this point. 

"Uh, okay, sure," Stiles said cautiously as he tried to get up without headbutting Mr. Angry in the face, which was more difficult than he expected. 

"I need you to hold the door while I chase the bird." Mr. Angry managed to say this with exactly zero inflection in his voice.

"Uhm . . ." Stiles didn't really know what to say to that. Was this some sort of euphemism for sex? That definitely sounded like a euphemism for sex. Or drugs. Neither of which Stiles really wanted to be a part of, at least not in the entrance to the library during finals week. It would be really hard to explain to his dad that he got kicked out of college for "holding the door" for some strange hot guy "chasing the bird" in front of the school library.

"I'm not sure I feel comfortable with that." 

Mr. Angry looked like he was in physical pain in the face of Stiles' stupidity, which that time was totally uncalled for.

"There's a bird. Trapped. When I hold the door it flies to the other end of the entrance." 

Oh. Maybe a little bit called for, then.

"Yeah, I can do that." Stiles patted down his pockets to make sure he still had his phone and wallet, before gesturing for Mr. Angry to lead on.

He led him around to the less-used side entrance, where there was indeed a tiny little bird sitting in the corner in the space between the two sets of doors. 

"Should I just --" he gestured vaguely but Mr. Angry (who was looking a lot less angry and scary by the minute) just kind of shrugged helplessly. 

"He's scared of me, whenever I open the door he just flies over to the other side." He looked a little sad about that, which was actually kind of adorable underneath the eyebrows.

"Here, I'll hold the door and you can chase him out," Stiles offered. He opened the door and waved Mr. Angry in, before standing back and opening it as wide as it would go. He watched Mr. Angry's shoulders crawl up to settle around his ears as he carefully approached the bird in the corner. Sure enough, by the time he was within five feet of it the little bird flipped out and began flying around spastically in the small space. The guy sort of tried to chase it in the right direction but it wasn't really working. The bird flew into the glass wall beside the door a few times before Stiles got worried about the damage it was doing to itself and dropped the door to grab the bird.

Growing up he'd had a cousin who taught him how to catch butterflies and toads and all manner of delicate things without injuring them in the process, and he applied all of that to this moment, when he reached out and briefly cupped the birds body and turned to aim it towards the door he had caught with his foot before releasing it. The bird flew in a few hectic circles around the door away before speeding away to the safety of the trees outside. 

Stiles laughed with relief before turning and catching sight of Mr. Angry who was still lurking behind him. He had a sort surprised, awed look on his face.

"How did you do that? I tried to catch it earlier, but it just kept freaking out."

Stiles grinned.

"I'm batman," he deadpanned, before shrugging. "I used to catch frogs and things with my cousin. And I didn't really catch it, I just sort of . . . redirected it."

Mr. Angry stared at him for a few more seconds, before seeming to decide something and awkwardly holding out his hand with a super intense look on his face.

"Thanks for that. I just couldn't really focus knowing the bird was trapped in here. Derek." 

"No problem. I'm Stiles," he offered while gingerly shaking his hand, before turning to go back and save his m&ms and now probably cold coffee. Mr. Angry -- Derek -- followed him back to the side of the building with the vending machines. Stiles picked up the coffee and sampled it before grimacing and dumping it out onto the grass. 

"I can buy you a coffee," the guy offered in a too-fast, too-loud sort of way. "I mean, I do tutoring, and this guy gave me this gift card to Starbucks, and I hate anything but black coffee and their black coffee tastes like shit so --"

"Uh, sure, I guess." Stiles replied, unused to being the least awkward person in any given situation and deciding to give Derek an out. They started walking towards the on-campus Starbucks that was just in the next building over when Stiles remembered that all his stuff was still up in the library, and had been for god knows how long.

"Shit! I left my bag in there, there's this guy watching my stuff, I completely forgot --" Derek grinned in weirdly triumphant way, which, Stiles had been pretty sure up until that moment that Derek had some sort of facial paralysis but it sort of made him look kind of really hot so who cares. 

"That was me! I'm the guy," (he sounded way too excited about this) "I have your bag." he disappeared around the corner for a few seconds before coming back with two bags, one of which was presumably his own. "I didn't want to leave your stuff," he explained, his face back to being weirdly serious.

"I was only out here for a few minutes --" Stiles started, confused.

"You were gone for over an hour," Derek frowned.

"Oh-oh my god. I'm so sorry. I must have fallen asleep. Oh my god. I can't believe I did that." Stiles buried his face in his hands to hide how red it was getting, before remembering Derek was still standing there holding his fifty pound backpack.

"Oh, thanks, really, you totally could have just left my shit to get stolen, I'm so sorry --" Derek shrugged while staring intently at  his face, which was weird enough to distract Stiles for a few seconds.

"I wouldn't just let someone steal your stuff." He said, like Stiles had suggested he set it on fire. "Coffee?" He offered in the lull that followed.

Stiles blinked.

"Sure. Why not."


End file.
